


But consider

by Signe_chan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 21:49:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2166402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Made in response to - http://josephjtoye.tumblr.com/post/94983524637/you-could-be-sad-about-your-otp-but-consider-one</p><p>8 short scenes of Clint and Phil being cute together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But consider

**one making awful breakfast for the other and the other eating it because they appreciate it that much**

“You don’t have to eat it, you know,” Clint said from the doorway. Phil looked up to find him stood there with a breakfast tray in his hands. It did smell, well, possibly a little burnt. Phil smiled anyway and gestured Clint over. 

Clint approached reluctantly and on closer inspection it was clear to see why. An attempt had been made at scrambled eggs and toast. Clint had obviously made an effort to scrape the black from the toast where it was burnt but Phil suspected he’d been rather distracted by that effort as the eggs were dry and also slightly burnt in places. At least the coffee smelt good and he managed to draw on that to conjour a smile as Clint settled the tray onto his lap. 

“I know it went wrong,” Clint said, blushing. “I just...I thought it’d be nice to bring you breakfast in bed since you’ve had such a crappy week. I can take it back.” 

“Don’t,” Phil said, reaching out to squeeze Clint’s wrist. He couldn’t say it looked lovely as he maintained a policy of not lying to Clint when he didn’t have to but he did say “Thank you” before taking a long drink of the coffee, which was well made. 

“I’ve never been good at cooking,” Clint grumbled, coming around and climbing back into the bed. There was a cup of coffee for him on the tray and he claimed it, leaning into Phil’s side. “This is still a bit dire even for me. I’d have made it again but you’re out of eggs.” 

“Clint,” Phil said, reaching across to squeeze the other man’s leg through the covers. “I appreciate the gesture.” He set the coffee cup down and, careful not to appear as reluctant as he felt, loaded up a fork with toast and eggs. 

They weren’t, honestly, as bad as they could have been. Clint had scraped most of the black from the toast so though it wasn’t good he could eat it. He’d also put a lot of butter on the toast which made up for some of the dryness in the eggs. All in all it could be worse and, well, Clint had made it for him. Clint had never cooked for him before and he wasn’t going to throw the effort away. 

Clint watched with a weird kind of fascination as Phil finished the entire meal, finishing with the last of the coffee to get the lingering taste of charcoal out of his mouth. Phil lent over and placed the tray on the floor then held out his arm for Clint to snuggle into his side. He was going to have to get up to use the bathroom soon but not just yet. 

“Thank you for the breakfast,” he said, kissing the top of Clint’s head. 

“You’re welcome. I promise I will never try to make you breakfast in bed again.” 

**one putting their ridiculous music on in the car and singing along while the other sits in the passenger seat with their head in their hands**

“I can’t believe you even own a recording of that,” Clint said, staring at the car stereo in horror as if he could make it change its track selection in shame. Phil didn’t respond verbally, he reached across and knocked the volume up a few more points, turning what had been a pleasant background music into something a lot louder. 

Clint groaned and let his head drop forward into his hands as Phil started singing along to the music, unselfconsciously belting out the Star Spangled Man with a plan as they headed down the freeway. It was a really good job Clint loved this massive dork or he might just die of embarrassment. As it was he just hid his head and dealt with it. Some things were worth putting up with. 

**he two of them going down to the beach and one getting sunburned really badly so the other slathers them with aloe gel when they get home**

“I don’t burn, Phil,” Clint insisted through clenched teeth. “I used to be outside all the time and I didn’t burn so I do not have sunburnt shoulders.” 

“I don’t care about what you used to do,” Phil said with a sigh. “Are you seriously going to sit there in pain all evening just because you don’t want to admit you’re sun burnt.” 

“I’m not in pain,” Clint insisted. And he wasn’t, really. He’d been in pain a lot before and this didn’t even register on the pain scale. This was almost pleasant. Alright, his neck was sore and his shoulders were tight and everything was too warm but...

Dammit, he didn’t want to be sun burnt. He wanted to go roll around on the bed with Phil but that really wasn’t going to be possible if his back was as much of a mess as he thought it was. Their first vacation ruined because he couldn’t be bothered to get Phil to put sunscreen on his back. 

“Come here,” Phil said, and Clint must have been out of it was Phil was much closer now and holding a tube in his hand. “This’ll take away some of the pain.” 

“I don’t want to be sun burnt,” Clint grumbled, giving in to the fact that he wasn’t going to win this fight. He let Phil turn him and Phil didn’t make any noise so maybe his back wasn’t as much of a mess as it felt. And then Phil’s hands were on him and damn but the stuff they were rubbing in was nice, cool and soothing on his abused skin and he went boneless under Phil’s hands as the other man massaged it in. 

“There,” Phil said as he rubbed, massaging Clint’s shoulders a little as he went. “Now you lie down and rest and I’ll get dinner and then maybe you’ll be feeling better after.” 

“Hope so,” Clint said, leaning up to grab Phil’s hand and then kissing his wrist. “Thanks for putting up with me.” 

“Well, somebody has to,” Phil said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “And I’m the one with the most practice. Now get some rest, I’ve got plans for you later. 

**one getting home from work later than the other and stretching out on top of them like a big lazy cat while they sit on the couch in front of the tv**

Phil dropped his briefcase on the floor and let out a deep sigh. It was over. The day was over and he could rest. No more paperwork. No more bureaucratic red tape and making nice to people he wouldn’t normally give the time of day in the hope they’d do him a favor. He was home and he could rest. 

He forced himself to kick of his shoes before he stumbled through into the lounge where Clint was watching dog cops. Beautiful, wonderful Clint who took one look at Phil and shifted over, opening his arms and who would Phil be to refuse that. 

He shed his suit jacket at least before collapsing on the couch, body going limp in Clint’s arms. He stretched out along the seats, eyes drifting closed as Clint started to gently rub his back. He was home now, everything was good again. 

**one inexplicably bringing home an animal and refusing to drop it at the shelter so they and the other have to take care of it**

((Yes, I am aware this isn’t how pizza dog happens exactly in the comics. I used elements, though. Yay for pizza dog.))

“He’s not my dog,” was the first thing Phil heard when he came in the door. It wasn’t, all things considered, a promising start. Still, he kept his calm and went through into the living room before he made any decisions. 

Clint was sat on the couch looking a little the worse for wear. A little more beaten up that he had this morning which was confusing at this had been his day off. He also had a dog. The dog looked worse than he did and was currently sat between his legs looking up at him with bog, adoring eyes and it sure looked like it thought it was Clint’s dog. 

“Talk to me,” he said with a sigh, moving to sit in the armchair. The dog gave him a beseeching look but didn’t come over to him. 

“You know those guys who’ve been hanging around?” 

“The ones I tracksuits?” Phil asked. He’d been meaning to do something about them but hadn’t had the chance yet. 

“Yeah, tracksuit mafia. They were hanging around outside with this dog and they were being kind of mean to it.” 

“You stole their dog?” 

“It was a humanitarian thing,” Clint said, reaching down to fuss the dog’s head. The dog turned to lick his arm and Clint smiled. “They were kicking it. One of them was going to shoot it. I couldn’t let them do that, Phil. It’s only a dumb dog, it doesn’t know what’s happening. I took it to the vet and it’s alright, just malnourished and shit. I can look for a place for it to live tomorrow.” 

And now he had two set of slightly dejected puppy-dog eyes staring at him. He was going to regret this later but there was only one course of action he could really take. 

“You’re responsible for cleaning up after him and he’d not sleeping in the bedroom but, if you must, he can stay.” 

“Seriously?” Clint said, eyes lighting up like all his missed childhood Christmases had just come at once. “I mean, thanks.” 

Phil stood and walked over. He lean down and the dog let him stroke it, scratch behind its ears. Its tongue lolled out and it tilted its head and, yeah, Phil could kind of see why Clint couldn’t let them hurt the damn animal. It was far too trusting. 

Then he lean in to kiss Clint. At the very least he was going to get some great thank you sex out of this. Though now he was going to have to actually deal with their unwelcome visitors to the neighborhood since he doubted they’d take kindly to Clint stealing their dog. 

**the both of them going out to a park and getting ice cream to sit with and eat on a bench**

“Okay, this one’s yours,” Phil said, holding out a truly epic concoction of sprinkles and syrups with some ice cream underneath. Clint grinned, just what he’d asked for. He dropped the dog’s collar to take the cone, putting his foot on the thing instead. Like the stupid animal was going to run away from them anyway when there was a chance of ice cream. 

Phil was eating a plain vanilla cone. So boring and predictable but, then, Clint had a certain appreciation for predictable. At least Phil’s hatred of toppings meant Clint never had to be the one to go buy the ice cream. Phil would never trust him not to go overboard. 

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and the park was full. They’d actually manage to get al off day together for the first time in weeks and they hadn’t even gotten out of bed until 10:34, a new record! Clint had chosen to take that as a sign that he was slowly winning Phil over to his idea of how to spend a day off. 

He looked over to find Phil licking melted ice cream from his fingers and, yeah, there were good points of getting out of bed too but he’d be glad to go back there. 

**one sending memes to the other while they’re at work so much they turn their phone off in exasperation**

Clint: I can has lunch?   
Clint: All of your lunch hours are belonging to me.   
Clint: Wow. Such food. So eat. Very date. Wow.   
Clint: I just came out here to have lunch and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.   
Clint: Hungry Clint is hungry.   
Clint: Surprise, bitch.   
Phil: I’m turning my phone off now.   
Clint: You’re no fun!   
Phil: I’ll be in the canteen in thirty. 

**one giving the other their jacket and not getting it back from the other until it stops smelling like them**

“Oh, here, by the way,” Clint said, dropping something on Phil’s lap. “You can have this back.” 

“Thanks,” Phil said, picking it up absently. It took him a second to realize what he was holding. “Wait, you had this? I’ve been looking for this forever.” 

“You lent it me,” Clint said, hunching his shoulders defensively. “Back, like, six months ago.” 

“Yes,” Phil agreed. “I lent it you to walk home in that one time. Where have you even been keeping this? I checked your closet.” 

“At work,” Clint mumbled and he was blushing now. That was kind of adorable but also worrying. What had he been doing with this jacket exactly?

“Why did you keep my jacket at work?” Phil asked, running his fingers along the material. It didn’t even look like Clint had washed it thought he hadn’t ruined it either so that was something. Clint’s own clothing didn’t seem to last very long but he seemed to take more care with Phil’s. 

“I just...it smelt of you.” 

“What?” Phil asked, eyebrow shooting up to his hairline. Clint was really blushing now and looking like he wanted the ground to just swallow him up. 

“I kept it because it smelt like you and when you’re away on missions and shit sometimes I miss you and when I’m here it’s not too bad but sometimes I miss you at work, like really miss you, and it helped to have it there. Like, I could put my face on it and it smelt like you and it felt nice and it calmed me down, you know. I’m sorry, I know that’s really fucking creepy.” 

“Do you want to get married?” 

It asked later Phil couldn’t tell you what brought him to ask the question just then. He’d been thinking about it for months, had the ring for a week, and they’d been talking about it in that kind of roundabout way they did. He’d even had a plan, a quiet meal at home, mentally preparing Clint for it. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out over Clint smelling his clothes. 

“Are you...did you just ask me to marry you? What the fuck, Phil?” 

“Yes,” Phil said, he could hardly back down now. “I admit it’s possible that I could have had better timing but, yes, I’m asking you to marry me. You don’t have to, of course, but...” 

“Like I’m going to say no,” Clint said with an eye roll. “Yeah, I want to marry you. I just...I thought you were going to be pissed at me. Why are you proposing?” 

“I don’t know,” Phil said with a helpless little shrug. “I just love you. Even when you are a little weird. So, yeah. Let’s get married.” 

“Okay,” Clint said, and then be was climbing onto the couch with Phil for a kiss and everything was perfect.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [But consider [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5429555) by [litrapod (litra)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litrapod)




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